Dream A Little Dream Of Me
by Lisa Arken
Summary: Set in 3.10, after Sam and Dean had decided to enter Bobby's head with the aid of the African dream root. / It's an 'alternative scene', because while watching the episode I was thinking: I cannot leave it at that! And that is the result. / Sam/Dean


Hey, everybody! This is my first English story. Actually, I'm German. I tried my best because I just wanted to write an English story, but there may be some mistakes in it. If there are, so please tell me!  
Nevertheless, enjoy!

Love, Lisa.

* * *

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Sam sat, as usual, in front of his laptop and tried to gather some information about this ominous dream root to help Bobby. But he didn't seem to be favored by fortune this day. It was maddening.

His older brother had made himself comfortable on a bar stool with a bottle of beer and were spinning around over and over for some time now. He seemed to be deep in thought. From time to time he mentioned some ideas on how to proceed further, which Sam mostly answered with an affirming sound. Both of them seemed to be absent-minded, because Dean replied nothing when he noticed his brother weren't listening. It was a strange situation.

Sam skimmed over the sites, but he had to read most of it several times because his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

So he hadn't noticed Dean quit his spinning-around activity after he noisily had put down the empty beer bottle onto the small desk Sam was sitting at.

Consequently Sam startled when two strong hands were laid gently on his shoulders and started to slide down his chest. He felt a pair of fervent lips descending on his neck, making his flesh crawl instantly. He closed his eyes.

"Dean," he pleaded quietly.

Those lips slowly went forwards to his clavicle. "Hm?"

"I … I cannot concentrate when you …," he managed but tilted his head nonetheless, so his brother could continue his caressing.

"Hmm," Dean replied affirmatively, but didn't seem to have the intention to stop his doing. It was quite the opposite – his fingers began to unbutton Sam's shirt, while his mouth slid up his brother's neck.

"Dean, please … we really got to –," he started again, but Dean rudely cut him off by laying his own lips tenderly onto Sam's.

"Would you just forget that job for one second and kiss me?" he lewdly murmured into his brother's ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

However the knowledge that all this was utterly wrong let him hesitate for a moment.

But when Dean, without a warning, pushed the desk aside and just slipped onto his lap and kissed him properly, also Sam's thoughts were pushed into the background. He wrapped his arms around his brother, answering the kiss. While Dean continued to take off Sam's clothes, Sam slid his hands under his brother's t-shirt and up his back, traced his spine, and had to smile when he noticed a soft shivering.

Dean stripped the shirt off Sam's shoulders and ran his hands gently but firmly over the naked skin. They reached Sam's neck, cupped his face. Their tongues weren't just playing but fighting a lovely battle, as it seemed.

Without breaking their hot kiss, Dean slowly stood up and dragged his younger brother towards himself. Sam understood and directed his brother, by using gentle force, towards the huge bed, tossed him onto it literally, before crawling on top of him and capturing his lips again. In the meantime Dean had thrown away his t-shirt and now their burning hot bodies met each other. Gasping was moving through the small room.

Sam let up on Dean's incredibly mesmerizing lips and kissed his way down his brother's neck and rib cage.

While exploring and caressing the smooth skin with his mouth and tongue, his fingers struggled to undo Dean's belt. The buckle sprung open with a quiet 'click'.

"Sam…" The soft and moaning sound reached Sam's ear and immediately a pleasant shiver ran down his spine.

"Sam!" Dean's voice grew harsh and seemed to come from another direction all of a sudden. What was going on?

"Sam!"

He suddenly opened his eyes. After a short while of daze, he realized that he might be still in their motel room but now he was sitting in front of the desk again and had been dreaming, apparently. His back ached when he sat up from that uncomfortable position. He rubbed his palm over his face.

"Dude, you were out," he were unnecessarily informed from behind, where Dean were hanging around in an arm chair, "Making some serious happy noises. Who were you dreaming about?"

Sam froze in his movement. "What? No one. Nothing."

He really felt like dropping his head right back onto the desk's surface and, to make matters worse, he couldn't help reddening.

"Come on!" Dean teased, "You can tell me. Angelina Jolie?"

Sam frowned. "No!" Far from it.

"Brad Pitt?"

Nice try. "No!" He shut his eyes, sighing silently. "Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean gave in.

Sam repeated the words muttering before his brother brought the conversation back to the point.

"I called Bela. She isn't gonna help us. Which puts us back to square one," he paused, "I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do."

Sam just nodded, wasn't listening. This weird dream was still hanging around inside of him. It had been so real. And, dammit, it had felt real!

It was like he was still able to feel Dean's skin underneath his fingertips. Confused he ran them through his too-long hair. Just in order to keep his hands busy.

"You gonna come help me with this stuff?" Dean roughly interrupted his thoughts. Obviously he was waiting for Sam to move.

"Eh…" He fidgeted around on his chair, feeling very embarrassed.

Either he had to keep sitting there and wait or he really got to get a cold shower – quickly. "Yeah … just gimme one second."

At this very moment the door bell rang and his brother stood up to answer, so the question about what to do wasn't of importance any more.

_The end_


End file.
